Foolish Promise
by KimiruMai
Summary: There was a reason for everything he did, including refusing to get attached to his half-human son.
1. Blessed Mistake

**I had planned on this being a oneshot, but after realizing that I was already at +3000 words and not even close to getting to the good stuff, I decided to make it a threeshot. So there.**

**This story was inspired by a dream that ImaginaryInk had recently, which we discussed for a good two hours straight and still talk about periodically throughout the day in similar intervals. Upon hearing about the dream, my brain kinda did this **_**FIIIIIZZZTTT**_** thing and I got inspired to write this. **

**So yeah, enjoy. Or cry, or whatever it is you guys do when you read stuff like this. **

**Disclaimer: All characters and concepts present belong to Akira Toriyama and the respective DBZ Publishers. Plot belongs to ImaginaryInk. **

**Song Prompt: Sleeping to Dream ~ Jason Mraz**

_I'm dreaming of sleeping next to you_

_and feeling like a lost little boy in a brand new town…_

* * *

**Foolish Promise**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Blessed Mistake**

He was twenty years old when he made perhaps the stupidest mistake of his life, and it would come back to kick him in the ass a while later. Of course, at that time, he wasn't concerned with matters such as these. He was concerned with getting laid.

He didn't really pay much attention to the girl's face, and looking back on that, he probably should have, but again, that was not his prime concern at the moment. All he really paid attention to or noticed was the fact that she had dark hair and a really _great _body.

He hadn't been with this particular harlot before; she was young and a bit shy, and if he didn't know any better, he'd suspect that she was relatively new at this. Her skill, of course, said otherwise, even though she really couldn't have been more than 19 years old.

She was nicely Saiyan-like, and didn't have any special features from what he could tell other than her pretty, fair skin and sharp nails, and when he looked he'd see her pointed ears. She was slim but slightly muscular, a trait he liked, and he suspected that she was slightly taller than he was, but again, this was not his prime concern.

After she'd done her job (he refused to call it love making, even though whores often insisted that this term be used), they just laid in the bed and dozed, because they knew that, silence aside, no one would disturb a customer like Prince Vegeta of the Saiyan Race. She tried to talk to him a few times, to which he answered curtly or not at all, and finally she just became silent and lay still. In the morning he would get a message from his scouter that ordered him back to the ship, and he left after paying but without tipping her.

He of course had never thought to ask her name, because he rarely used the same harlot twice, so there was no need for it. If they didn't know who he was, that was no concern of his, although he had yet to meet a person who didn't know of his…dangerous job.

So he went about his purging and his screening, and conquering planets in the name of a man he very much hated, and occasionally he would finish early and get the chance to stop by a brothel planet with his comrades. Perhaps a year later or so, when he was twenty-one, he got to return to the same planet (it wasn't one of his favorites, but it was closest and that, at this point, was his main concern) and because he didn't really have time for exploring, he decided to go to the same tavern. The harlot, of course, was different; he hadn't used this one, but he'd seen her, although that, of course, was one of those things that fell under the category of the _least _of his concerns.

So she pleasured him most of the night, and then he slept until perhaps four in the morning, upon which he was roused by his scouter demanding that he come back to get a new mission. Scowling, he got up and dressed himself, kicked the harlot awake, and stormed downstairs. He went to pay for his night, and the man tried to charge him extra, saying that he had to raise prices for everyone and he swore he wasn't trying to cheat the Prince, but Vegeta's temper quickly ran short.

He took the man out back to show him what happened when you tried to cheat the Saiyan Prince, but he found himself too tired and irritated to play with the old coot as he normally would, so he settled with a quick disintegration. Scowling at the scalded spot on the side of the rundown building, he spat in the dirt and turned to leave as he had come.

Then he heard a baby cry.

Irritated at the sound, he scowled again and sought out the source so he could destroy it, and around the other side of the building he came upon the body of a young woman, and a baby near her.

He recognized her immediately, even though he shouldn't have. He remembered the last time he was on this planet. His brows knitted, and he cautiously stepped closer. He scrutinized her, saw finger marks around her neck, and he knew she'd been strangled, probably during out of her "jobs".

He glanced towards the bundle that laid on the ground beside her and saw a child's round cheeks sticking out from underneath swaddling blankets. His brows knitted further, and he stepped over to it cautiously, as though it had a disease. Peeking into the pile of blankets, he saw his own face, flushed red and scrunched up with fitful cries.

He paled, and felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Immediately, he knew it was his child –who else could have such a face? – but still, just to check…

He decided that if it wasn't his child (and looks be damned, there was only one true way of finding out) he would just leave it there and go on about his business. Actually, it would probably be better for him to just kill the kid; brothel planets weren't the best places to be born in, and with its mother dead, he figured he'd be doing the brat a favor.

He stood over the child hesitantly, unsure of how to pick it up, because of course the Prince of all Saiyans had never done such a thing as holding a _baby_. He scowled tried to think back to the last woman he'd seen holding a baby, and he remembered on the planet he'd just purged that a woman had been running with her hands supporting her child's head and backside on her arm, so he awkwardly dropped to one knee and scooped the child into his arms, blanket and all. The baby wailed and screamed, so loudly that he had half a mind to drop it. Scowling at the child, he unwrapped the blanket – it was a boy – and a furry tail uncurled and stiffened with distress.

His eyes grew wide; the child was Saiyan. He was a father.

He had a son.

Despite the fact that the boy had been born to a harlot whose name he had neglected to find out, he felt a sense of pride and joy wash over him as he carried the baby back to his pod. He was slightly irritated that he'd had to slow his flying as to not suffocate the boy, but at the same time he didn't particularly mind it.

Of course, the longer flight back to his pod gave him time to think, and that's when the panic set it.

What the hell was he supposed to do with a kid? He didn't know how to take care of an infant, for God's sakes! He refused to let Frieza know of the child; that was asking for things to end badly. And he sure as hell wasn't going to just drop the kid off on some planet for it to get purged without his knowledge, and even if it wasn't destroyed, who would raise the boy? He wouldn't trust anyone but a fellow Saiyan to give his son a proper upbringing, but Nappa and Raditz weren't exactly qualified to take care of a baby either…and what would the kid eat? How old was he anyway? Was he weaned or did he still need a mother's milk? Was he potty trained? He knew nothing about taking care of a baby. Nothing.

How did he keep his son out of Frieza's clutches?

Just by being born to the Prince of Saiyans, this child had been condemned to a life of slavery. There was no other option for him. Nowhere in the universe was safe for a young Saiyan. Subconsciously, he pulled the boy closer to his chest and buried the little bundle in his arms. The baby had quieted upon feeling the new sensation of flying, and every so often he would look up at his father with wide black eyes.

He could not let Frieza have this child.

Vegeta bit the inside of his lip, his tail curling around his waist so tightly that it nearly hurt. He made a decision that he really had no choice in anyway; his options were basically nonexistent.

He'd just have to hide the child in his room.

Now, how would he sneak the boy into base? Rumors spread like wildfire on the mother ship; if any single person saw Vegeta carrying a baby, Frieza would hear of it in hours. Finally, he stopped in midair and came up with the lamest but only possible solution, and upon thinking of it he flew back to the room he'd used in the brothel and stole a giant pillowcase.

He was much calmer on the second flight back to his pod, figuring that at most, someone would think he'd just found some trinkets from some planet instead of guessing that there was a baby inside. That of course, would only work if the baby was asleep and not moving…he'd have to activate stasis sleep, just in case. He doubted it would wear off on the baby as quickly as it did him.

He climbed into his pod and messaged Raditz and Nappa, who responded almost immediately, and the three launched into space. The child never left his arms, and whenever the little ship jumbled he would shield the kid further with his body. The baby cried sometimes, but hushed after Vegeta spoke to him in his - their - native language and made a poor attempt at rocking him. After a while Vegeta turned on the stasis sleep, and both he and the baby slept for the rest of trip.

* * *

When he awoke, he saw the mother ship coming into view. He tucked the child into the pillowcase, making sure he wouldn't suffocate him by accident, and slung the bag over his back as he climbed out. Nappa and Raditz looked at him strangely, asking what it was that he had, to which he promptly told them to shut their traps. The two said nothing more and decided to play along with whatever their devious prince was planning, and no one really gave Vegeta and his bag of "trinkets" a second glance. It wasn't unusual to bring back souvenirs, anyhow, and even if Vegeta rarely did so himself, it wasn't enough to cause a scene. For this, he was grateful.

The halls of the ship were vaguely empty, save for a few wandering soldiers, but that didn't stop him from walking at an unusually fast, nervous pace. Raditz and Nappa had to lengthen their already long strides to keep up, both of them passing suspicious glances at each other and their prince, all the while staring curiously at the strange, bulging pillowcase he carried.

Raditz blinked, and he could swear he saw something move from within the bag. He elbowed Nappa and quietly pointed to it, and they saw something move again. Nappa's eyes became almost comically wide, and he mouthed to Raditz, _Something's alive in there!_

Vegeta was starting to walk faster, feeling the baby moving against his back. His room was close…they just had to make it to his room –

A guard hollered at them, asking what that thing on Vegeta's back was and demanding to be shown what was inside, or else he would report them to Frieza. The guard apparently didn't know who he was talking to, and Vegeta whirled around and blasted him on the spot. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of the man but soot, and even Raditz and Nappa were surprised at this sudden outburst. But then, the guard did ask for it.

When they did get to Vegeta's room, the Prince practically lunged inside and slammed the door in his comrades' surprised faces. Too curious to let something this mysterious slide, the too simply waited there, figuring that he'd let them in eventually.

Inside, Vegeta tore the pillowcase off the child and cradled him tightly, relieved that they'd made it inside without being caught (or at least, caught significantly). The baby stared up at him with those wide, childish eyes again, fully awake and confused about his surroundings.

Vegeta looked back at him, a slight frown on his face. His heart was racing and his hands were trembling; fearing he'd drop the child, he put his back against the door and breathed a shaky sigh, sliding down to the floor.

What was he going to do with this child?

He leaned his head back and hit it against the door quietly, closing his eyes and exhaling through his nose. Could he even trust Nappa and Raditz not to say anything? Sure, they were undyingly loyal, but were they intelligent enough? Could he hide the baby from them anyway? They'd be bound to pick up the extra scent at some point; even they weren't that stupid.

A knock interrupted his train of thought, and Raditz's voice called, "Prince Vegeta?"

His grip on his son tightened possessively, and he barked back, "What do you want?"

There was a pause, like hesitation, then Raditz asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Go away."

"Prince…"

Nappa said bluntly, "What the hell were you carrying?"

Raditz hissed, "Nappa! Be quiet."

"What? It's a legit question."

Vegeta rolled his eyes at their banter; most conversations involving these two ended this way, mostly because Nappa was stupid and Raditz was so low class that he would kiss Vegeta's boots if prompted to.

He growled to himself, and the baby's mouth popped open at the sound before his eyes lit up with delight, but Vegeta held a finger to his lips and shushed him before a giggle could come out. He looked around his room and saw no good place to hide a baby, so finally he got up and just tore open a drawer in his one dresser, ripped out most of his clothes and put the baby inside. The dresser was short but deep, so it wasn't like he'd crush the kid or suffocate him in the short time it took to open the door…or so he told himself.

He closed the drawer with the baby inside, and the child gave a muffled giggle. Vegeta tried to scowl at the seriousness of the situation, but he found his lips twitching. One of his comrades knocked again, effectively stopping that emotion in its tracks. He scowled fully now, dismayed that he was slightly nervous, and he felt his palms sweating underneath his gloves.

When he opened the door to his room, Raditz and Nappa stared down at him suspiciously – this was why he hated being short so much, because it made these two look menacing and him look like a child – both of them with their arms crossed and their tails wrapped tightly around their waists. Their raised eyebrows and set jaws were not lost on him; both were irritated and impatient to find out about this secret.

He, of course, was not one to stand for this show of intimidation, so he folded his own arms and puffed out his chest, narrowing his gaze at them. Their strong postures almost immediately deflated at his regal stance, which he noted with great smugness. "Was there something you wanted?" he asked.

"We wanted to know what's going on, that's what," Nappa said.

"Loudmouth," Raditz muttered.

Vegeta glanced around the hallway and saw it to be empty, so he stepped back and quickly ushered the two in before he shut the door and locked it. They stared at him quizzically, and he shooed them out of the way of his dresser – goddamn, he hated how tiny this room was, especially with those two in it – and hesitated before he carefully opened the drawer.

His son yelped with laughter at the movement, blinking as light flooded his eyes before he grinned a fairly toothy grin and reached for his father.

Nappa and Raditz stared open mouthed, and Raditz pointed at the baby. "W…wha…where the hell did that come from?!"

"Why do you have a _baby_ in your bedroom?" Nappa demanded, shocked.

Vegeta shrugged and picked the boy up, putting him over his shoulder somewhat clumsily. "He's mine," he said, and as proof, the baby's tail flicked back and forth curiously.

The two gave him a blank stare. Finally, Raditz said, "When did you take a mate?"

"I didn't," Vegeta corrected. "Apparently Creepaun's Flask doesn't have as many barren women as they claim."

Nappa blurted, "He's a whore's son?"

Vegeta growled. "_My_ son. Watch your mouth."

"Apologies, Prince," Nappa said quickly. "I was just…startled."

Raditz peeked around Vegeta's shoulder to look at the baby. "He looks just like you, Vegeta," he said.

It was true; the baby's skin tone was slightly lighter, favoring his mother, but he had Vegeta's straight nose and slightly slanted, onyx eyes, and black hair that stood up like a flame. He had scruffy bangs too, as Vegeta had when he was younger. However, like his mother, the baby had slightly pointed ears, and his little nails seemed sharper than they should be at such an age.

The baby squirmed in Vegeta's arms and tried to turn around, wiggling so much that the prince nearly dropped him. Vegeta groaned. "I don't know how to hold a baby," he muttered, trying to situate the boy.

"Can I hold him?" Raditz asked. "I had a lot of little cousins."

Vegeta looked unsure, but finally gave the baby to Raditz, who showed him how to hold a baby properly. The baby pulled on Raditz's long hair, and he winced. "Quite a grip," he chuckled.

Vegeta smirked proudly.

"What's his power level?" Nappa asked, still watching the child.

The smirk dropped from Vegeta's face, and he actually looked sheepish. "I didn't check," he admitted.

Both his comrades were surprised, and Raditz immediately looked down at the baby and pressed a button on his green scouter. Numbers flashed across the screen for a moment, then came to a stop with a solid beep, and Raditz said, "1006."

Vegeta blinked, frowning a little bit. "That's lower than I was at birth."

Raditz shrugged. "Be that as it may, you were born a pure breed royal, whereas this kid was born a half breed. Besides, he's still an Elite."

Vegeta seemed to think this over, and he took the baby from Raditz. "Yes, true. He'll be a fine warrior."

"What will Frieza do when he finds out?" Nappa asked quietly.

The three fell silent, then Vegeta growled. "I'll hide him until he's old enough to fight properly."

Raditz frowned and looked away. "That might seem simple now, Prince, but the kid's got to have some type of motherly care on this ship. If he was sent to a planet to purge, that'd be different...he could find food there and such, but there's no way you can have a child purge a planet without Frieza knowing, and he'd definitely notice if we pretended to take such a weak job."

Vegeta opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. Finally, he snapped, "I'll hire someone to take care of him while I'm away."

"Someone will eventually notice a person going into your room when you're not present," Nappa pointed out.

Vegeta's grip on his son tightened, and the baby let out a short wail. "I won't let Frieza have him," he snarled.

The two larger Saiyans looked away. "I don't know what to tell you, Vegeta," Nappa admitted. "I got nothing."

"But we'll help you hide him, if you want," Raditz offered.

Vegeta was quiet. As though sensing his father's uneasiness, the baby began to cry. The Prince sighed at the sound and pat the child's back gently, and the cries slowly started falling to hiccups.

It was silent for a moment, then Raditz asked, "What's his name?"

Vegeta blinked, then blushed. "I haven't…I haven't given much thought to it yet."

"Understandable," Raditz murmured, poking the baby's cheek. "Most parents take months to name their kid."

"I am not most people," Vegeta returned, turning his back to his comrades and thus halting Raditz's continuous attention-giving to the baby. "He'll be named within the hour."

Behind him, Raditz and Nappa looked at each other and shook their heads. "If you say so, Prince," Nappa shrugged.

Vegeta waved them off without passing them another glance. "Go on. You're dismissed. And not a word of this to anyone."

They nodded. "Yes, Prince."

When he heard his door close, he relaxed. The child was safe…at least, for now.

The baby cooed and reached for Vegeta's face. The Prince sighed and clucked his tongue disapprovingly at himself. "Hardly a few hours, and you're already making me soft, you stupid brat."

As if understanding his father's dismay, the baby grinned cheekily at him.

He sighed again and climbed into his bed, laying his son down beside him. The two stared at each other for a minute before the baby got bored and started playing with his tail (and eating it, much to both Vegeta's disgust and amusement). Vegeta found himself nearly smiling again, and he flicked his own tail in front of the baby's face. The child immediately dropped his tiny tail and made a grab for Vegeta's, missed, and spent the next hour trying to catch it.

Vegeta did not think of the child's name in an hour, as he had boasted he would. It took him nearly two, actually, but the time in which he chose his child's name was not his prime concern at the moment. By the time he had finally decided what to call his son, the boy was fast asleep, curled up at Vegeta's side after having finally caught his father's tail, which he used somewhat like a stuffed animal.

Vegeta brushed the bangs from the sleeping child's face, then pulled the baby closer to him and wrapped his arm about his son's tiny body protectively. If anybody barged into his room to take his son, they'd have to go through him first.

"Kenjin," he murmured, and he fell asleep.

_And I'm so damn tired…_

**Alright, so there's chapter 1 of the three-shot. I am fairly pleased with it. Ink, I hope u like it ^^**

**Using Google translate for name puns, I typed in the vegetable 'sage'. The name it gave me was kenjin, although this probably means 'sage' as in 'wise, magical person', and after further research I found out that the name Kenji means 'wise, healthy child' in Japanese. So, works for me. **

**Review please!**

**~KimiruMai**


	2. Desperate

**A/N: Well, here's part two. At this point, I'm wondering if three chapters is enough. Oh well…we'll see when we get there. **

**Shit goes down in this chapter, man. I'm not going to promise it's error free...it's 11 PM, I'm too tired for this. Why am I awake this late, you ask? Because my inspiration angel is evil, that's why. **

**Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z and all respective characters are owned by Akira Toriyama. Plot belongs to ImaginaryInk. **

**Song prompt: By Your Side ~ Tenth Avenue North. **

_And I'll be by your side wherever you fall_

_In the dead of night whenever you call..._

**Chapter 2: Desperate.**

That night was unkind to Vegeta.

Being himself, and still having no idea as to how to take care of his child, he was grievously uninformed of how much babies tended to cry at night. Kenjin, as he had decided to name the child, was unfamiliar with his surroundings and unused to being without his mother, especially for a long period of time, and therefore was more than likely to waken during the night. He first roused his sleeping father around 10:30, although this was more from dreaming and kicking than it was from crying. _That _particular bout of tantrum throwing came around 11:00, and again at midnight. Vegeta's poor attempts at calming the child proved to be fruitless, and his energy was beginning to run out as fast as his already short temper.

"Kenjin," he murmured. "Kenjin, for God's sake, would you just go to sleep?"

Kenjin cried in response.

"I know you're tired," Vegeta muttered sleepily. "I know you're tired, because _I_'m tired. What do you want?"

Of course, being a baby, Kenjin could not answer and say exactly what he wanted, unfortunately for his father. Vegeta groaned and picked up the screaming boy again and pat him on the back, trying to silence the cries, but again, he received no positive results from his efforts.

"I don't know what you want," Vegeta mumbled. He did know, however, that he was extremely glad that the walls of the ship were basically sound-proof, although this was more because the material was sturdy and convenient than because Frieza actually wanted to give his soldiers privacy.

Kenjin just cried into his father's shoulder and kicked his feet so hard that Vegeta could have dropped him. He sighed and looked around his bedroom, as though this would give him some clue as to what his son wanted. He said, "Maybe you're hungry."

Then it hit him.

His eyes widened with realization as he realized that he was probably starving his child. He hadn't fed Kenjin the entire time they'd been on the ship, and who knows how long the boy had been sitting there with his mother when Vegeta found him? As much as Saiyans needed to eat, as much as babies of any race needed to eat, he was probably killing his son through malnutrition!

_Shit! _

He put Kenjin back on the middle of his bed and showed the child his tiny tail, upon which Kenjin momentarily ceased his tears and began to nibble on it. "Stay there," Vegeta ordered, as if the child was going somewhere anyway, and rushed out the door, locked it, and ran to the cafeteria downstairs. He grabbed an armload of soft fruit and a few bottles of water, paid for it all in credits (although he had half a mind to just kill the chef and take it as he pleased) and flew back to his room. The door didn't appear to be tampered with, much to his relief, and when he entered he found Kenjin once more in the beginning stages of heavy tears. Upon seeing the pile of fruit that his father had brought him, however, his little face brightened immediately, and his crying turned to childish babbling as he reached for the food.

Vegeta grinned, pleased that he'd finally figured out what was wrong with his child, and sat down on his bed. He watched Kenjin and made sure he didn't choke as he scarfed down the food, and occasionally gave the child some water whenever it seemed necessary. After a while, Kenjin started chewing slower and slower, until his eyelids were drooping, and he fell asleep sitting up with a half eaten piece of fruit in his tiny hands and his face smushed against Vegeta's arm.

The father sighed wearily, laid Kenjin down on the bed, and put the rest of the fruit on the dresser before he climbed into bed himself and immediately fell asleep. Kenjin only roused him one more time after that, but quickly shut up after he had secured his father's tail in a death grip.

In the morning, Vegeta had to make a new diaper out of one of his old shirts, but that's another story.

* * *

For the most part, Kenjin could already wiggle around on his own, and was just about crawling already. Vegeta figured that if he was a full blood, he'd be crawling already and killing things, but then, he had to account for the alien half of his son. So while he worked around the ship all day, he could leave Kenjin in his room with a pile of fruit and a bottle of water with a piece of cloth stuffed in the cap to substitute for a baby bottle. It was a bit crude, but the best he could do at the moment. The next time he left for a purge, he'd bring back some more "trinkets", like baby bottles and diapers and clothes for the little brat, because Kenjin was still walking around in nothing but Vegeta's old shirt.

He wanted his son to dress like a prince. He _should_ dress like a prince. He was Vegeta's heir, was he not? He should have his own sleek little suit of armor and shined boots with matching gloves and a rich, blood-red cape. But at the same time, the Kold Empire had taken that uniform and defiled it, and Vegeta knew that now, dressing his son like he should be dressed would be the same as saying he was a slave to Frieza.

That was unacceptable.

Vegeta briefly wondered what the alien half of his son would dress like, but quickly cast that thought out; if Kenjin would dress at all, he'd be dressed like a Saiyan. So for now, Vegeta was out of options. Kenjin would run around half naked.

He'd successfully hidden his child for nearly a week now, by sheer luck and power of will. Kenjin was mostly a good child, easily entertained and very curious, but occasionally Vegeta would dart by his room throughout the day and find the baby crying. His fear that Kenjin would be found started early in the morning each day, and would not be quelled until he had nearly reached a panic and returned to his room for the final time at night. Sometimes he would have Nappa or Raditz go to check, but this was only if he'd been gone from his room for a while and would not get the chance to return for a few more hours. Generally, he didn't like people in his room, and he especially didn't like the fact that those two might get themselves caught. Again, it was not a matter of loyalty on their part, but merely a matter of their stupidity. Besides, Nappa would probably scare the child with his jumpiness and Raditz would spend too much time cooing over the boy instead of actually checking up on him.

But he couldn't hide the boy like that forever. It was only a matter of time before he got sent on another purge, along with Raditz and Nappa, and no one would be there to check to see if Kenjin had food or water or needed to be changed or anything. On a ship in the middle of space with no way of hunting for survival, Kenjin would die without care.

Vegeta had half a mind to just take the child with him and teach him to fight on the battlefield, but he knew that any job the Saiyans took would be far too dangerous for a three month old boy.

He had no choice but to find a woman to take care of his son while he was gone. So, in order to do this, he began stocking up on food in his bedroom (this, of course, was after Guldo's miniature refrigerator mysteriously disappeared from his quarters) and putting water bottles in his closet until there was a good decent supply there. He figured that would hold Kenjin over for a month or so...and whoever he paid to take care of his son could come and go for meals as she pleased. It wasn't uncommon for men to buy their own harlots and leave them in their rooms while they were gone, so he figured she could get her own food without looking suspicious, as one would carrying enough food for a baby Saiyan.

Yes, this would work fine.

So, when the ship landed for restocking on Freiza #79, he left the ship for about an hour and went into a brothel and sat around drinking beer while he looked for a woman that didn't look completely disgusting, and eventually he saw a young woman who looked like she'd rather die than be here walking around stiff legged and exhausted.

He cleared his throat loudly when she walked by his booth, and she paused. He beckoned to her and put down his drink, his dark eyes scrutinizing her pale, skinny form and her scanty clothes. This would not do, not at all. He couldn't have some barely dressed woman taking care of his son.

She asked him what he wanted, and said that if he wanted a roll in the hay she was probably not the most up to task at that given time. It was clear that she'd just gotten done with one of her clients, although he smelled fresh soap on her more than anything else, and he was relieved to realized that she'd at least already showered.

He asked her what her name was and how old she was, figuring that the younger she was, the less time she'd be doing her "job". Her eyes widened upon recognizing his face, and she suddenly trembled, and told him obediently. She was older than him, but not too old, and he decided that she would know how to take care of a baby. He inquired how long she had been there, which wasn't nearly as long as he had anticipated, and after more questions he found that she was there for money more than her enjoyment in doing the deed, and when she asked why he cared about such things he told her to be quiet and not speak unless spoken to. Once he deemed her as adequate, or at least, as good as he was going to get in such a place, he demanded to know if she'd ever taken care of a child, and she replied that she had, although none of her own, and had plenty of experience.

That was good, because he had decided that if she said no, he would kill her. She couldn't be spreading rumors about his inquiries to anyone.

Still, even after his questioning had ceased, she looked at him strangely, but he said no more. He merely slapped her when she refused to be quiet and paid for her with credits, along with his beer, and left the brothel. He took her to his room and shut her in it, telling her that she would take care of his son while he was gone on purges or when ever else he wasn't present. He explained to her what he had done with his stock of food for his son and told her that she could leave his room to get food and water for herself, and nothing else. Kenjin seemed to take no interest in the woman, but instead cooed at his father the entire time Vegeta was in the room. The woman agreed to Vegeta's terms, happy to be busy with childcare instead of being a harlot, and she was so glad for this new opportunity that she didn't even flinch when he described in accurate detail of what he would do to her if any harm came to his son.

Vegeta was sent on a two month long purge the next day. Kenjin cried for a long time after Vegeta left and didn't come back.

* * *

They noticed how quickly he worked on this particular purge; he had never killed so swiftly before, not since he was very young. He didn't play around with his prey like he normally would, which both surprised and relieved his comrades because Vegeta was normally psychotic and torturing in a monstrous way. Raditz himself thought that Vegeta was subconsciously desperate for any type of control over people, although Nappa secretly thought that Vegeta just had a fascination with the color red.

After the purge was completed, they found a small, unsoiled river to bathe in (because really, who wanted to sit in a pod for days while smelling of death and blood?) and Vegeta soaked his clothes quickly and scrubbed them with his gloves until they nearly gleamed. Nappa and Raditz looked at each other knowingly as they took their normally paced bath, both of them guessing that even though Kenjin was too young to truly understand it, their Prince thought he should look presentable in front of his child.

So they finished bathing, dried themselves with Ki, and climbed in their ships to go back to Frieza's mother-ship, all of them thinking quietly and worrying that something had gone horribly wrong.

The giant ship came into view, and Vegeta felt a horrible sinking in his stomach. Upon landing on the docks, he walked so quickly through the ship that he was nearly running, his palms starting to sweat and his throat becoming dry with his nervousness. He barely noticed the strange looks his recieved as he left Nappa and Raditz far behind him (they surely couldn't run, not without rousing suspicion even more than their Prince was). He reached his room in what was probably record time and flung the door open.

His room was empty.

He could swear his heart stopped. He stopped breathing, he could swear he stopped breathing, and he felt his jaw working but no sound coming out. Sweat formed on his forehead and slid down slowly, his black eyes wide at the empty space in his room.

It had to be a trick.

He practically dove into the room and started turning the place upside down, looking everywhere for his son. He flipped his mattress and tore apart his closet and checked all his dressers, but Kenjin wasn't there.

_He wasn't there!_

"Prince Vegeta!"

He stopped abruptly and looked in the doorway, where Nappa and Raditz stood with blank faces. He opened his mouth, then closed it and swallowed, finding his hands shaking and his tail coiling around his waist so tightly that he nearly squeezed the breath out of himself. "He...he's gone," he stuttered. "My son...he's not here."

Raditz and Nappa paled.

Vegeta gripped his hair and hissed, "Where the fuck is he?!"

As if answering, his scouter beeped. Vegeta froze, his dark eyes darting to the red glass over his face. He reached up slowly and clicked a button to respond, his features growing paler and paler as he listened to the caller speak in a high, feminine voice.

He knew he was going to die shortly after he ended the transmission with a quiet, "Yes, Lord Frieza."

* * *

He walked with his shoulders squared and his head held high, even though his brows continued to knit with worry and dread. He tried to tell himself that Kenjin was alive, that everything was perfectly fine, but he already knew that he was lying to himself and really, what was the point?

Nappa and Raditz walked behind him, although not as confidently. Nappa watched his prince's posture change rapidly as they walked, knowing full well that his instincts were making him want to pace and snarl and kill something, but his rank required him to be still.

The walk to the throne room was long and quiet and nerve wracking, and the only people that wandered about were the guards, each of whom Vegeta very much wanted to slaughter. The guards that stood at Frieza's door saw them coming and opened it, and although they did this, the Saiyans could see nothing inside except the colored walls. The two larger Saiyans expected their prince to pause or hesitate, if only slightly, but Vegeta merely walked in as though it was a casual everyday matter, and that scared them.

"Vegeta," Frieza's voice floated across the room. "Do come in, child."

The Prince bristled at the name; Frieza had called him that since he was a boy. He stepped farther into the room along with his comrades and opened his mouth to reply, but his voice caught in his throat at what he saw.

Zarbon stood beside Frieza's floating chair with Vegeta's child in his arms, and Frieza sat in his usual place beside the woman that Vegeta had hired, petting her white hair as though she was a kitten.

"Vegeta," Frieza purred, although the look in his eyes did not match his calm tone. "You did not tell me that you had a son."

Vegeta was quiet, but his dark eyes flitted to his son, who babbled happily and reached for him.

"Is this the mother?" Frieza asked, his red eyes gleaming. Before Vegeta could answer, Frieza's fingers paused on top of the woman's head, his knuckles curled so that the tips of his nails rested in the roots of her hair. Without warning, his expression shifted from calm and collected to furiously livid, and his grip on her head tightened. She gave a strangled cry of absolute agony as his nails sank into her skull; Frieza made a fist, and her blood splattered.

Kenjin started to cry.

Vegeta felt his face draining of color; he hadn't seen Frieza so angry in a very long time, and the result of that anger had been painful like you wouldn't believe. "She wasn't the mother," he murmured truthfully, keeping his eyes on his son instead of the corpse. "The mother is dead."

Frieza did not look appeased. "Is she now? Well, Vegeta, I'd like to know how you'd come across the child then, and how he exists in the first place when you know the rules."

Vegeta's black eyes narrowed. The "rules" the tyrant was referring to was a simple statement; Vegeta was not allowed to have children. He could not carry on his bloodline. This had never been a problem before, as no Saiyan women still existed, but now...

"It was a mistake," he said, trying to provide a suitable explanation that would cause the least amount of damage to his child. "The harlot was not barren. I was misinformed."

"Mis...informed," Frieza said, as if having never heard the word. "Really. Well, if this was the case, then why did you not just kill it?"

Vegeta tensed.

"Surely it can't be that you love the boy, Vegeta."

Still, the Saiyan Prince remained silent. Frieza frowned deeply and rose from his chair with his arms folded casually behind his back, his acute hearing picking up the sound of the monkey prince's heartbeat speeding up and his breathing pattern changing.

Vegeta _hated _being near Frieza. The tyrant's massive aura always triggered a flight-or-fight response for him, and with his son threatened in such a way, his instincts felt like they were on fire.

"Well," Frieza said when Vegeta provided no answer to his question, his purple lips quirking with amusement. The tyrant stepped closer to him, and pulled one hand from behind his back to place it on Vegeta's shoulder. "It appears that you _do _care for the child. Oh, this is just simply _priceless_, Vegeta, really." He paused and sighed dramatically, as though proud. "Well, well, well, my little monkey prince has grown up."

Vegeta tensed, and Frieza's fist slammed into his stomach.

A sharp grunt flew from his lips, along with a few drops of blood. His arms wrapped around his stomach own their own, and he sank to his knees, gasping for breath. Frieza's white feet disappeared from his vision, the strange sound of the Ice-jin's footsteps moving behind him, and a heavy blow suddenly met the back of his head. He pitched forward, seeing stars.

Frieza's tail slapped the floor harshly, denting the metal. "You pathetic, shit-faced scum," he hissed, moving in front of Vegeta again. "You're just like your father. Idiots, the both of you! Did you really think you could keep a _child_ from me? Do you doubt my intelligence that much?"

Vegeta spat on the floor by Frieza's feet. Frieza swiftly kicked him across the face.

Vegeta's head jerked, and his body went skidding across the floor to land at Raditz and Nappa's feet. Their mouths fell open in horror, and Raditz took a step back.

Frieza scowled at them as he stormed over, and fisted Vegeta's hair. The prince gave a sharp cry when the tyrant lifted him, his lip bleeding profusely. His dark eyes squeezed shut, and he clawed at Frieza's wrist. The Ice-jin bent down and snarled in his ear, "And what about your subordinates, hmm? Do they have brats too? Have you all been naughty little monkeys?"

"No!" Vegeta hissed, and Frieza slammed his face into the floor.

"Shut your filthy mouth, you rat!" he shrieked. "I give you one rule, Vegeta! One rule! Is a single rule so hard to follow?! Do you not have the mental capacity to follow one, single rule?! "

Well, that wasn't true, entirely...there were many rules that the Saiyans had to abide by, Vegeta especially.

"One rule, Vegeta," Frieza murmured, and his tail curled around Vegeta's leg. The Saiyan Prince screamed when the bone shattered.

Frieza released his hair after a few of his ribs broke. Vegeta collapsed on the floor, spitting up bloody phlegm. His coughs did little to drown out Kenjin's screaming cries. Vegeta looked up, and saw Zarbon holding his child as though he carried a disease, as though he was ready to hold the boy at arms length at any given moment.

No one had the right to look at his son as though he was too disgusting to exist.

A snarl ripped from Vegeta's throat, and despite his horrible broken leg, he pushed himself a few inches off the floor with practiced balance and started to lung at Frieza's henchman. He had just left the ground when Frieza's tail curled around his waist and sent him flying into the far wall of the throne room.

His back collided first, and more blood flew from his mouth, the droplets catapulted further when his head slammed into the metal. He pitched forward and fell to the steel floor, and his chest ached. His armour was broken and cracked, and blood was seeping through the spandex from multiple wounds, turning the thick blue material a sickly purple.

Frieza was livid. Vegeta had lied to himself earlier; he had _never_ seen Frieza this angry. The beating the Prince endured in the next hour was by far the worst he had ever received. You could always gauge how pissed Frieza was by the method of his tortures, and this time - besides using his thick tail as a cruel whip - Frieza actually went so far as to get on his knees to beat Vegeta with his fists.

And all the while, his comrades and his son - _his son, for Christ's sake! _- were forced to watch, utterly helpless.

Lying on his stomach, Vegeta focused on trying to breathe in the least painful way possible. It was hard, but became even more difficult when Frieza stomped on his back at the base of his spine, right above his tail.

He groaned, and Frieza muttered, "Goodness gracious, I've forgotten something."

Vegeta had not had his tail broken since he was barely 12 years old. The disastrous results had even made Frieza let up, if only to save his favorite playtoy for later. It was just as unpleasant as the first time.

The scream that tore from him was not that of a sentient being.

His blood was painting the floor by now, so much so that if he wasn't dizzy from constant cranial abuse, he'd surely be dizzy from bloodloss. Tears leaked from his eyes - dear God, the _shame_ - and pooled with the puddles of red on the floor.

Frieza beckoned to Zarbon, who stepped forward and gave the baby to him.

"No," Vegeta rasped. His body felt numb, and it did not obey his orders to get up.

Frieza looked at him with cold red eyes. "This is your punishment for straying, Vegeta."

Kenjin sobbed, squirming in the tyrants freezing arm that was wrapped around his fat belly. His little dark eyes were squeezed shut, his tiny fists clenched, and his pudgy feet kicking. His crying was louder and only added to Vegeta's headache, and for multiple reasons.

"I want you to watch," Frieza said calmly, "and remember this, so that next time you lay with a harlot, you'll remember to make sure she has all...unnecessities...removed."

"No...you can't -"

"I can. And you know it."

Kenjin screamed.

"NO!" Vegeta yelled.

"SHUT UP!" Frieza screamed back. "You've made your bed; lie in it!" He lifted his fingers above Kenjin's face, his hand pulsing with purple light.

Vegeta's hand closed around his ankle. "Stop," he pleaded, his voice hoarse. "Please."

Frieza's hairless white brows lifted, and his black horns gleamed in the lights. "Excuse me?"

"Let him live," Vegeta rasped. "I'll do anything you want..."

Well, _this _was certainly new. Vegeta didn't beg for anything, ever. He never begged for the torture to end, never pleaded for the pain to stop. Sometimes he didn't even scream. But this..._this _was...unnatural. Raditz and Nappa were perhaps more surprised than he was, if their gaping faces were any proof.

"You'll do anything," Frieza repeated skeptically.

Vegeta's arm was shaking from the mere effort of keeping his weak grasp on Frieza's ankle. "Anything you want," he mumbled, his resolve slipping. "I swear."

Frieza looked thoughtful. "You realize that 'anything I want' is a very broad phrase, Vegeta."

Vegeta's breath shook, and he choked on blood before he spat it out crudely and answered, "I'm aware."

"You care for this brat that much?" the tyrant questioned.

"He's my son," was the soft reply.

Frieza was quiet for a minute. He said, "You'll do whatever I ask without question from now on." He didn't give the impression that he was finished, so Vegeta was silent. "You will serve me with utmost loyalty for the rest of your life."

The room was silent.

"And for as long as he lives, your son belongs to _me_."

Vegeta gasped, "Done," and the last of his strength gave out, his fingers sliding from the tyrant's leg. Frieza shoved the child towards Vegeta, and the boy squirmed and writhed on the floor. Kenjin had not ceased his tears, and even being near his father did little to comfort him.

"Zarbon," Frieza barked, still irked at having been convinced to bargain with _Vegeta_ of all people, "Have this _mess_ cleaned up as soon as possible. I'm retiring to my quarters."

Zarbon nodded, and Frieza left the throne room, too angry to even stop for his hover chair. Zarbon followed him out to fetch a cleaning crew after giving a customary sneer towards the Saiyans. He was pleased that he wouldn't have to clean the blood and dispose of the female's body himself.

Nappa and Raditz let out heavy breaths, as though they'd been holding them in. Now free to, the two rushed to their prince, crouching beside him and assessing his injuries to determine the least painful way to get him to the healing tanks.

Much to their surprise, Vegeta gave a rattled breath and rolled himself onto his side. His arm slipped around his son, who lay on the floor bawling, and pulled the child close. He murmured, "Shh, Kenjin, it's alright."

The baby's cries started to lessen in volume, but fat tears still fell from his eyes.

"Prince Vegeta," Nappa said quietly. He paused, as if thinking of a way to break it to the Saiyan royal gently, then said, "You've sold your soul to the devil, Prince."

Vegeta sighed wearily, pulling his son closer to his body. "I don't care," he murmured. "Raditz, take my son to my room."

Raditz nodded, and picked Kenjin up. Vegeta's eyes fluttered, and his head slumped against the floor as he fell into unconsciousness. Nappa pressed his lips together and sighed, picking up his prince and placing his body over his shoulder as gently as he could. He looked at Raditz, and their eyes met worriedly for a moment. Finally, Raditz turned and headed for the door, Nappa at his heels. The two split upon passing the door frame, carrying father and son in opposite directions.

When Vegeta got out of the tank the next morning, he was still exhausted, and as he had no assignments until the day after, he spent the entire day lying in his bed, his child's face buried in his shoulder, and Kenjin's tiny body nestled snugly in Vegeta's arms.

_And please don't fight these hands that are holding you_

_My hands are holding you..._

**I had a lot of this written and I got stuck. ImaginaryInk unstuck me, if you can imagine that. XD Thanks, dear twin from another continent. **

**So, how many people did I scare the hell out of halfway through this chapter? :D**

**REVIEW!**

**~KimiruMai**


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